


Quiet Nights [Lucio Drabble Collection]

by FandomTrashbin



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, Lucio (The Arcana) - Freeform, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, Lucio (The Arcana) Route, M/M, Smut, eventual angst, lots and lots of angst, mostly genderneutral apprentice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomTrashbin/pseuds/FandomTrashbin
Summary: A little collection of oneshots dedicated to the Goatman. Anything from fluff to smut - might include other characters as well. I always try to keep the main character as vague as possible so inserting yours will be easier! Don't worry, there will be a small summarize at the beginning of each oneshot, so you know what you're getting into. Happy reading!





	1. Golden Arms and Golden Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> A small oneshot of an insomniac Lucio, a genderneutral MC (no names mentioned), and a certain golden arm that's kinda bothering its bearer when trying to sleep. Fluff ahead! (Also: This story is already a few months old - I just copied it from my Wattpad-Account (luciosgoatgal) to here because I figured it'd reach a wider audience here. Hope you enjoy!)

It's not the first time I feel movement in the bed – movement when nothing else moves.

The palace lays in silence. Everything is asleep; the only noise disturbing the otherwise perfect quiet is the gentle ripple of the water fountain coming through the open balcony door.

That, and noise of a restless person rolling around in a mattress and thousands of pillows and cushions so soft one sinks in like in a marshmallow. And a tiny, muffled curse.

With a silent sigh, I conjure a small light in my palm and roll around.

Lucio lies with his back to me. I notice how he stiffens as the spark casts its light barely far enough to see what's directly in front of me.

»Montag«, I say softly. »Monty, look at me.«

Hesitation. After a moment, Lucio follows my request. He squints his eyes at the light. »I just got comfortable«, he huffs.

»You have a reputation of being able to fall asleep everywhere«, I reply. »Is it because I'm here? I can leave, if you want me to.«

»No!«

I raise my eyebrow at how frantic Lucio sounds. That's... usually not the way he acts, but I decide to not dig further. Especially because not a heartbeat after he blurts it out, he looks away, everywhere but my face, an expression on his that I've only seen very few times so far.

Embarrassment.

My eyes find his golden arm. »You would probably have less trouble finding a comfortable position to sleep if you didn't have, well... a weapon strapped to your body.« I look to the red stripes and scratches he already afflicted upon himself with the sharp edges of the arm's links. Some of them even draw blood. The mattress doesn't take too well to the razor-like edges either; in the faint light, I can see minimal runs in the fabric, feathers sticking out from under it.

»Absolutely not«, Lucio retorts. He couldn't sound more determined – yet I can tell exactly that he won't take off his arm for a very specific reason.

And that's the fucking aesthetic.

»Don't give me that look«, he immediately follows after. »We could get attacked! There could be an assassination attempt on one of us in the dead of the night. You want me to fight for our lives with my bare hands?! ... With my bare hand??«

»You remember that one time when we sat by the fountain and you imitated Julian by being super dramatic?«, I say. »This could be another impression.«

Lucio gasps for air and pouts. »I'm being serious! You haven't been royalty for a long time yet. It's a dangerous life.«

For a second, I stare at him with lidded eyes. He knows this look very well. So do Asra and Julian – mostly because they are the ones that usually cause it. Also because I adopted this specific mimic from Portia. »Yes, behind these palace walls, in the middle of at least twenty dozen heavily armed, armored and well trained bodyguards... It sure is a dangerous life, Count.«

I tally the number of heartbeats in my mind it takes for Lucio's façade to start crumbling.

He can't bear looking into my eyes anymore, so he stares to the end of the bed instead. Then, he looks down on his golden arm, which is on the side he is lying on. The fingers close into a fist, relax again a second after. »I don't want to take it off.« Now, his voice isn't more than a faint whisper. »I'm... incomplete without it. A cripple. I refuse to be seen by you like this.«

With the last sentence, I feel all sarcasm fade from my face. Even though I expected his reasoning to be like this, like something that would suit his vanity... his words feel heavy in my chest. I smile softly. »That's it? You think that I'd think you're ugly without the golden arm?«

»Well... maybe not ugly – that would border the impossible – but...« Lucio trails off, the pout returns to his lips. »Maybe... not as attractive as I am with it. Not as powerful. But as... compromised as I sometimes feel without it.« The pout makes place to a new expression – one that I have never seen on Lucio's face before.

Is that... sadness? Genuine sadness?

»You know, when I still had my arm, I was actually left-handed«, he says. There is hesitation in his voice, but he grows a little more confident with every word he speaks. »It took years until I could finally do everything I could do with my left hand with my right one. By the time I'd switched at last, I'd already had my prosthetic for a while, but I refused to be unable to do all of these things with my human hand. I refused to ever be as helpless as I was without a hand able to yield a sword, with my golden arm or without.« Now raising his human hand against the ceiling, he looks through his pale fingers. »I myself have come to terms with the fact that I'm... like this. But that doesn't mean I love having other people see me in that state.« His hand falls back to his side, and his silver eyes fixate on me. »Not to mention that the scar isn't very pretty.«

For nearly ten heartbeats, I say nothing. At last, I kick off the covers and rise from the mattress. I walk around the huge king-sized bed (which Lucio loves to refer to as ›count-sized‹) and offer my hand to him. »C'mon, take it«, I say.

The Count looks at me over his shoulder with certain skepticism, but still turns around and lets me pull him off the bed and on his feet.

Holding his human hand, I lead him to a full-body-mirror standing on the wall right next to the huge portrait of him with his foot on death's skull.

»Look at you«, I say, my eyes meeting his through the reflection. »You're absolutely magnificent. Your hair, your face, your eyes, your body... Every inch of you is perfect.«

A small, knowing smirk graces his lips as he takes in the compliments, but vanishes way sooner than usual. He looks down to me. »What are you getting at?«

Staring back, I lay both hands on his metal arm and let my magic flow. Lucio's eyes widen as they dart back to the mirror – my hands seemingly holding air. »It's just an invisibility-spell«, I whisper. »Fragile enough to wear off when I take my hands off your arm, but...« I'm not looking into the mirror. »Look closely, Montag. If you don't want me to see, I won't look. But I want you to know that you're gorgeous in my eyes. I know you said you came to terms with the sight of your missing arm, but I still want you to take in the view. There is absolutely nothing about you that doesn't deserve praise.«

I can see Lucio staring at his reflection; his masseter is flexed, he looks like he's under pressure. I can almost hear the gears working in his head as he thinks about my words.

The silence lasts for almost a whole minute. Just as I think of taking my hands away and the two of us just going back to sleep, Lucio's voice rips through the quiet. It's just a whisper – yet even that sounds a tad too loud in the peace of the night.

»If you reach to my triceps, there's... there's a mechanism on the inside of the shoulder's armor-plate... and another one right below the elbow. Push them down at the same time. Brace for the weight. This arm's around five pounds.«

I let the spell down and do as he says – he didn't lie when he talked about the weight. How is he even standing straight with this thing attached to his side? Without looking at him or the mirror, I carry the arm to a black metal structure standing on a drawer that looks like very simplicistic art at first glance, but I know better. Carefully, I lay the arm onto the structure, fingers spread gently. It sits there perfectly now – like a sword in a showcase made specifically for that special blade.

When I turn around, Lucio still stares into the mirror... or better, he's still standing there, but looking to his feet. As he feels my eyes on him, he raises his glance and looks back at me.

The stump where his arm used to be is marked by a single, broad slash.

I remember that, when he still had his goat-body as a ghost, it looked similar; seeing him stand there like this, nothing covering his body but a long, wide pair of pajama pants, silver eyes and hair glistening in the pale moonlight, he almost looks like a ghost again, almost ethereal.

I make a slow step in his direction, another one and another one, until I'm right in front of him again. I smile up to him, my hand caressing his shoulder and carefully running down the side of what's left of his arm. »Gorgeous«, I say, quietly. »Absolutely perfect.«

The tension eases a bit from Lucio's shoulders. He even manages to smile back.

I feel a hand on my back – next thing I know, I'm pressed against Lucio's body, held tight by his human arm. He rests his lips on my neck. I lay my own arms around his and pull him even closer, neither of us wanting to be the first one to let go.

After some time, we finally pull apart. Lucio opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a long yawn.

»Well«, I grin. »Seems like a certain goat is a little tired.«

»A little might be an underestimation«, he replies.

The smile still on my lips, I lead him back to the bed.

As we lie in it again, Lucio pulls me close yet another time; he grabs the blanket and pulls it over our heads, creating something like a little cave. With his arm over my waist, he locks our lips together.

For minutes, we just lay there, arm in arm, caressing each other's lips with our own. Finally, as sleep starts to overwhelm both of us, he buries his face on my throat, while I rest my chin on his head.

I'm almost completely gone as I hear Lucio whisper; at first, my hazy mind isn't quite sure whether I'm already dreaming, until I feel him kiss the skin of my throat.

»Thanks«, he breathes against it. »You know... my arm may be made of gold, but so is your heart.«

The corners of my mouth twitch upwards at Lucio's words. I plant a kiss on top of his head and close my eyes, sighing. »Good night, Montag.«

All I feel before slipping away for good is Lucio's smile against my skin.


	2. Amputation Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [TRIGGER WARNING: GORE, AMPUTATION, DETAILED VIOLENCE]
> 
> A small pre-plague AU where Lucio is already Count and gets his arm amputated by Julian - with the help of a certain apprentice, who also takes over after-care with a little magical touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work imo, Lucio might be a little ooc, but I hope you'll enjoy regardless! Happy reading!

As a magician’s and doctor’s apprentice – even though I only started the latter two weeks ago – there are only very few things that I haven’t seen or heard before.

Be it huge, armadillo-like mounts, the howls of a werewolf at a fullmoon’s midnight, the fury of a person infected with a certain spider’s poison.

But this? This is new… and quite frankly, it is terrifying.

»MEDIC! MEDIC! ASSISTANCE NEEDED! THE COUNT IS BLEEDING TO DEATH! HEAVY POISONING OF UNKNOWN TOXINS!« Julian’s frantic yelling for someone lending him a hand is almost drowned out by the Count’s inhumane screaming. No less than six people are holding down his arms and legs.

I have heard of Count Lucio’s almost supernatural physical strength before, but I had never given much credibility to the chatter of the chamberlains – until now, that is.

Lucio’s back arcs, as though an invisible hook is pulling his spine upwards, while his shoulderblades seem like they were firmly nailed to the wooden stretcher. His cries of pain sound neither like animal nor human – the cause of it I’m holding in my hand. A tiny dagger, barely big enough to be called a blade, just as long as my index finger. It’s bloody all over; only a small part right above the handle is tinted lightly green.

It’s an oil-poison-concoction; not even Doctor Devorak knows which poison it is yet, but one thing we had to learn the hard way: It’s fatal. So far, none of the people the large, organised group of robbers or rebels (or whoever these people are) infected with said poison even made it to the field-medic tent. Count Lucio is the first to do so… and, the way things are looking, the fast death of all the other soldiers was more than merciful.

Through the frantic, far more experienced other apprentices, still trying to keep Lucio still, I catch a glimpse of the Count.

His face is twisted in pain – his left arm, of which the biceps was completely pierced by the tiny dagger just a few minutes earlier, is drained of all colour… except, of course, the blood running down his arm and his dark blue veins, dragging through the pale skin over his shoulder up to his neck, designating exactly how far the poison has spread already.

I’m frozen in my tracks.

He won’t survive this – and he’ll be conscious until the end. A sudden wave of painful empathy washes over me. If I could just help in any way… but so far, I’m too inexperienced to even be considered to help Doctor Julian Devorak; I’d be a hindrance for him trying to save the Count at most. The only reason I was deployed here in the first place was because of the desperate need for field medics by the military.

Another of Lucio’s screams almost ruptures my eardrums. It rips me from my shock-induced paralysis, and without even thinking, I toss the dagger, draped in a small rag, on the next table and slip past Doctor Devorak, emerging between the apprentices, directly above Lucio’s head.

As my shadow falls on his face, his screams stop for just half a second; his eyes open a small slit, revealing bloodshot eyes that almost appear crimson.

»It’s okay«, I whisper, as I gently put my fingertips on each of his temples. None of the apprentices or even Doctor Devorak seem to even notice that I spoke, or maybe they are just unaware of my presence in general. »It’s okay, it will be over soon, I promise. No more pain; no more suffering; be at rest.«

As my magic flows from my fingertips to his temples, the dark veins on his throat are embalmed in warm light. The blue gives way to a gentle shine – Lucio’s thrashing dies down, leaving him shaking and twitching uncontrollably, but as his eyes flutter shut, his face relaxes. My magic has not reached his shoulder yet, and he is completely gone, fallen into a deep slumber, unaware of all pain. The light reaches the cut, then goes no further; the bleeding changes from a steady flow to a less heavy drip..

The other apprentices – and Doctor Devorak – gape at my doing, slowly removing their hands from Lucio’s limbs. »Well, don’t just stand there«, I hiss out between my teeth, trying my hardest to keep my magic flowing. I have never done this before – I only read about it and had Asra answer some loosely asked questions about it. »Amputate his arm! Maybe we can save him that way!«

»Amputate his arm?! The man will have us hanged!«, one of the apprentices exclaims.

»You think he’d choose his arm over his life?«, another one asked hesitantly.

»Quiet! They’re right. I’ve known Lucio long enough to know that he will be furious about this for a minute or five, until he realises he can have a prosthetic made of gold or something«, Doctor Devorak cuts them off as he twists the tourniquet tighter to stop the bleeding a bit more. »You, go, bring me my amputation kit! Apprentice, how long can you hold this spell upright?«

»I can keep the poison out of the rest of his body and him in this comatose state for about five more minutes«, I reply, closing my eyes to be able to focus better. I feel a sudden rupture in my magic flow, hastily taking it up again.  
Lucio twitches and quietly whines.  
»At most«, I add, looking at the Doctor. »Hurry.«

Doctor Devorak nods a single time – he extends a hand to the apprentice he sent to fetch his amputation kit. »Saw.«

I shudder as I see him put the blade right below the tourniquet; just as he is about to pull it back for the first time, he stops. He looks up and meets my gaze once again. »You don’t happen to know your way around pyromancy?«

It costs me every bit of my limited magical skillset to think about the Doctor’s question and simultaneously keep the spell upright. »Why are you asking me that?«

»If you have enough energy, you could help save his life once more than you already did – by cauterising the wound.«

»C… Cauterising?« The shock causes another rupture in my magic; Lucio utters a noise of pure pain, his eyes flutter open. Against everything I expect, he looks straight into mine, then to Doctor Devorak. »Jules«, he brings out. His voice sounds like sandpaper over stone – and then he is out again.

Doctor Devorak stares at the Count for a second; then he looks to the saw and Lucio’s infected arm in front of him. He pulls a white mask over his mouth and nose, grabs the blade, and with a sound similar like slugs being squashed under a carriage’s wheels, he pulls it through the flesh.

I am one of the only ones present who don’t have to look away – one of the apprentices stares for a moment, turns around, stumbles to a corner and vomits into a bucket.

»Cauterising means to seal the wound by applying extreme heat to avoid blood loss or infection«, Doctor Devorak retorts, teeth clenched as he saws through the soft tissue and hits the bone.

I don’t bother replying that I know what the word and action means – and that my shock came from the quite sudden request to burn the stump that will be left of Lucio’s arm once Doctor Devorak is done chopping it off. »Depends on how fast you are«, I say, quietly.

After another minute that feels more like four hours, the Doctor has finally severed the last bit of flesh the arm is still dangling on. He looks up to me, an expectant expression in his eyes. »Are you feeling alright enough to cauterise this?«

I don’t answer – I’m pretty sure I don’t have much of a choice anyway. Still, I hesitate. Do I let down the spell entirely? Lucio will likely wake up within seconds. Maybe both at the same time…?

»Apprentice!«

Doctor Devorak’s voice snaps me back into reality; without further ado, I focus, and push a wave of magic through my fingertips into the Count’s temples. When I open my eyes, I see stars – the void comes insanely close, threatens to pull me in, but with my last strength, I push it back. I cup the bleeding stump, try to ignore the hard edge of the bone sticking out of it, seemingly out of place in the warm, sticky, fleshy mess of blood and torn muscle. My hands heat up like a lit match; a small spark flies as the flame engulfs the wound. The smell of burning flesh fills the room – its sizzling, and I already know that I wouldn’t be able to eat cooked meat for the next few months. One more apprentice leaves to empty their stomach; another one follows.

Two heartbeats later, I’m done.

Exhausted, my hands fall to my side. Just then, the wave of magic I pushed into Lucio wears off; he groans, eyes still closed, but he shudders in pain. Quickly, I take my place back at the head end of the stretcher and place my fingers on his temple once more – this time, I focus on his pain only instead of sending him to sleep. »It’s okay, Count Lucio«, I whisper, my vision still blurry. »You’ve done it; you survived. You’re quite a strong man.«

His eyes open – through the haze, I can see the red of his sclera fade; that, or I’m imagining things. His lips part, but nothing comes out.

Headache is pulsing through my temples now. I feel like I just ran a 20-mile-marathon. My hands are shaking as I sink to my knees.

At the edge of my consciousness, I hear Doctor Devorak giving the remaining apprentices instructions to bandage the cauterised wound; then, he drops down next to me. »Apprentice, are you alright?«

I can’t answer. My mouth feels terribly dry. »Permission to take a break, Doctor?«, I ask – my voice is raspy like I had been smoking for all my life.

Doctor Devorak pulls down his mask and smiles lightly. »Of course. Let me get you to your… Apprentice? Apprentice!«

I can barely hear him anymore. The void that I pushed back just a few minutes earlier comes back with a force I cannot overcome a second time – the last thing I see is the room abruptly turning by 90 degrees as I fall to the side and everything goes silent.

~~~

I yawn as I take a small sip of tea. »How long did you say I was out?«, I ask.

Doctor Devorak shrugs. »Not for too long. A few hours. Midnight just passed.«

»And…. The Count? Is he doing okay?«

He gives me a smile. »Yes. I mean… As okay as one can do with a newly amputated arm. Which is why I’m here, precisely.«

I almost choke on my tea.

»It’s nothing terrible, don’t worry«, Doctor Devorak adds quickly, having noticed my nervousness. »The Count wishes to see you as soon as possible. He wants you to be the one to change the bandages.«

I can’t help to look at him dumbfounded. »But… The bandages should be fine? I was only out for a few hours, the bandages should be changed only tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be bad for the healing process to already do it now?«

The Doctor sighs. »Yeah… He tore them off when I told him he didn’t need new ones.«

I hesitate. »How did he… how did he react? To his amputation, I mean.«

A smile twitches over Doctor Devorak’s lips. »As you would expect it. Don’t worry – he already yelled his lungs out on me. He doesn’t hold anything against you, especially because you eased his pain. He probably wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you, particularly because of the cauterisation, and I told him this. It shut him up pretty quickly.«

I stare at him for a second; after a few more sips, I put aside the cup and slide my legs off my bed. »Okay. Take me to him.«

He furrows his brows. »Are you sure?«

»I am«, I reply. »I’m fine. The Count needs me, apparently – and the sleep and tea replenished my magic. Look.« I raise one hand and conjure a small ball of light; the most basic of all tricks. Doctor Devorak still looks at me like I just presented him with a cure for cancer. Then, he quickly clears his throat.

»Alright. Follow me.«

~~~

The room is lit dimly as the Doctor and I enter it.

Lucio has a tent of his own – he is the Count, after all. In the weak light, I can barely make out his pale figure sprawled across the bed. He is breathing heavily and in an unsteady manner; a sign of intense pain. His eyes are covered with a wet rag.

Before I can ask about it, Doctor Devorak leans down to me and whispers: »There is almost no amount of painkillers that will effectively work on him. We had to let it rest as it was.«

I gulp. No painkillers after getting his arm removed…?

Just as I open my mouth, Lucio’s head falls to the side. »Jules? You finally brought your apprentice?«

Before Doctor Devorak can answer, I step forward. »I’m here, Count Lucio. At your service.« I turn my head back to my teacher and nod.

He hesitates for a second – then, he slightly bows, even though Lucio can’t see him. »I’ll be in the tent next-door, if you need me.«

Lucio waves his remaining hand dismissively. As the curtain closes, he removes the rag from his eyes. »Why are you standing there like you took roots? Come here.«

I flinch slightly on the inside, then step closer to his bed, sitting down on its edge. I take a look at the wound facing me; the flesh is burned dark, but it’s not a fourth degree burn, which he wouldn’t have felt anymore. It’s third degree, and I’m starting to wonder what kind of pain he was experiencing during his infection if not even a third degree burn can make him scream uncontrollably. The bone is sticking out of it, black as coal, farther than before, as the flesh shrivelled upwards during the cauterisation

»What took you so long to get here?«, he asks as I get my supplies ready. »I ordered your presence hours ago.«

»I’m very sorry, Your Highness. I was unconscious. The magic I used to keep the poison out of the rest of Your body is very draining. I needed time to regenerate.« Lucio doesn’t answer - I take a breath. »I’ll need you to sit up for this«, I say quietly.  
I brace for sharp words, a sneered comment, anything, but instead, Lucio sits up without uttering a sound. His eyes are glistening.  
The pity I felt when I saw him lying on the table before I took action a few hours earlier returns. I decide to try and make this short – I grab my supplies and get ready. He sharply sucks in the air between his teeth as the bandages touch his skin. »I’m sorry… I’m sorry«, I say, teeth clenched. »I’ll be done in a minute.«

»Can’t you work some of that magic you did earlier?«, he hisses.

»I can do that right after being done here. I need both of my hands to wrap this up.«

I notice that he’s trying to retort something, but instead, he just turns his face to the side, his fingers cramping into the sheets.

After a full, agonising minute, I’m done.

Lucio lets the breath he held escape in something that sounds like a mix of sigh and gasp – he lets himself fall back, a shiver going through his body, sweat glistening on his chest.

Without wasting another moment, I crawl on the bed and step over him, one knee next to each side of his hip.

His eyes, still marked with pain, pop open in surprise. »What are you–« He trails off as I place my fingertips on his temples once more and let my magic flow. Now his lids flutter shut again. His lips part, and a small moan of relief and relish escapes them. The sound makes blood shoot into my ears and cheeks – I’m just glad that even if his eyes were open, the dim light would hide the redness of my face.

Just then, the cool, silver depths catch me in their sight once again. »You know«, he says, quietly, »you’re pretty cute.«

I almost choke on my spit. It’s close to a miracle this didn’t cause a rupture in my magic. »I… th-thank you…«

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards. He smirks.

_Oh my god. He has dimples._

I try to hide my redness by turning my face to the side – much to my dismay, this only makes matters worse.

»Are you blushing? Let me correct my earlier statement – you aren’t cute, you are adorable.«

»Count…«

»It’s Lucio for you, now. While we’re at it, what’s your name?«

Flustered, I mumble out my name – Lucio smirks.

»Hm… how fitting. I like that. It really suits you.«

»Thank you, Lucio.«

For a few seconds, he’s silent, his eyes trailing around my face. »Has anyone ever told you how nice your eyes are? One can get lost in them easily.«

At this point, I don’t think I could get any redder in the face. »I… don’t think so.«

»Well, you’re doing pretty good work here – I might just make you the palace’s doctor to keep you around. Then I could also tell you more often.«

I press my lips together, looking everywhere but his face. »You’re flattering me, Lucio. But I’ve only been Doctor Devorak’s student for about two weeks or so; I’ll still need some time until I’ll be able to help people effectively on my own.«

Lucio raises an eyebrow. »You’ve helped me just fine.«

»Yes – with magic.«

»Did Jules teach you that? I never saw him do it.«

»No, I’m studying magic under Asra Alnazar. You might have heard of him.«

»I haven’t. So you’re studying two subjects at once? Not only adorable, but smart too…«

»Count!«

To my surprise, he laughs – a deep, sonorous laughter, and for a moment, I almost stop my magic flow. What a beautiful sound… no wonder Countess Nadia Satrinava married him when he asked for her hand the evening he saw her for the first time.

»Say…«, he breaks the silence that started to build after he had become quiet again. »You’ll stay here until I’m asleep… right?«

I raise my eyebrows. His lips are smiling, but his eyes aren’t. They look… nervous? »If that’s what you want, Count. I’ll keep my magic flowing until you’re asleep.«

»Can you stay until after? In case I wake up and I need you. You can spend the night here. The bed is big enough – I don’t mind sharing it with you.«

Again, my head feels like a balloon full of hot air – but this time, I have to smile. »Of course, Lucio. Rest now. You got through a lot today.«

The anxiety fades from his eyes; he smiles again, and this time, it’s not only genuine, but also free of all flirtatious aspects. His lids close shut, his head nicking to the side. A long sigh escapes his lips, and less than five minutes later, my magic flows easier – he’s fallen asleep.

Slowly, I remove my fingertips from his temples. His eyebrows furrow slightly in his sleep as the pain returns.  
I shift, lying down next to him. For a few minutes, I watch him sleep, carefully observing whether the pain gets too much and he wakes up. After a bit, I start to yawn as well, even though I just slept for a few hours – just as I’m about to fall asleep, I feel movement by my side.

Lucio’s fingers brush against mine in his sleep. He shifts, mumbling words in a language I can’t understand. A lock of his hair falls into his face as he turns it towards me.

I can’t help but smile at him. I thought he was attractive before – but now, he’s just plain adorable. The longer I’m lying here, the harder it gets to keep my eyes open.  
Still smiling, I let myself slip back into the warm, comforting darkness.


	3. The Path is the Destination, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio is filled with doubt and insecurity - and, as always, the Apprentice has just the way to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kinda a boring one, but hey, it's loads of fluff and a dash of hurt/comfort. Not my best work, but I hope you guys enjoy it!! Happy reading!

The moon thrones high upon the stars on the sky.

They illuminate Vesuvia laying in front of me under the massive balcony; tiny sparks of magical light swirl around me like fireflies as I lazily wave my hand conjuring them. Normally, I would have gone to sleep hours ago – but not today.

I can’t help but smile as I hear the clicking of the door; I turn around and step back into the pompous bedroom.

Lucio stands with his back to me. My smile fades.

His mere body language alone tells me something I had noticed that day, but hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to him about. Slumped shoulders, head low. Something is wrong – very wrong, considering it’s Lucio we’re talking about, Lucio, the man who always keeps his chin high, shoulders squared, standing straight as a ruler to make the most of every inch of his height.

He turns to me – his eyes are still pointed towards the floor.

I smile, step to him and kiss his cheek before wrapping my arms around him. It barely takes a second for him to hug back. His face buries on my shoulder.

»What’s wrong, Monty?«, I ask, petting his back.

No answer. That’s unusual. Normally, I’m the first one he comes running to when something bothers him. The fact that he seems to have to indulge on physical touch before replying lets my heart sink a little.

»Monty?«, I whisper.

»I’m fine«, he croaks. »I just… need you to hold me for a second.«

The pit in my stomach grows. This isn’t like Lucio – still, I remain silent and let his head rest on my shoulder, warm breath tickling my skin. We stay like this for what feels like an eternity. His weight is getting heavy in my arms; I kiss his temple to let him know he needs to move.

Lucio takes the hint and raises his head.

As I look into his eyes, my chest tightens.

They’re bleary and red – not red enough for him to have cried, but red enough to know that he surely did have to hold back tears quite a few times today. He is awfully pale, too.

I cup his face with both my hands and gently caress the skin under his eyes.

Lucio’s lids fall shut. He places his human hand over mine and exhales ever so slowly, before opening his eyes and looking at me with so much pain and love it almost brings tears into my own.

»You’re not fine, Lucio«, I whisper. »Talk to me. I want to help you. I can’t stand seeing you like this; there is obviously something weighing on you.«

For a moment, Lucio stares – not at me, though. Much rather, he stares through me. Slowly, he leans back, my hands sliding off his cheeks. He turns to the balcony, walks a few steps, stops, back turned to me.

Silence.

As he finally speaks, his voice is cracked.

»Would you still love me if I wasn’t a Count?«

I can’t help but stare at him for a second, utterly speechless.

As I don’t answer, he turns around – the pure panic flaring up in his eyes as they meet mine is like a punch in the gut. »Would you?«, he repeats, voice shrieking and trembling.

»Lucio, what kind of question is that? Of course I would still love you!«

»B-But… you hesitated…«

»Because I can’t believe you would ask me that!« Shaking my head, I approach him and pull him close – he slumps against me, clinging onto me like a drowning person to a piece of driftwood.

I lean back just enough to lay my lips on his.

He grabs me by the waist, presses his body against mine, as if the only thing keeping him from falling apart is the touch of another person.

It’s a long kiss. I decide it’s for the best to not be the first one to pull away; kisses seem to always help Lucio relax.

Finally, he leans back a little to look me into my eyes. I give him the softest smile I can muster up. Another thing I noticed to calm him down.

»And you really mean it?«, he asks, quietly.

»Of course I do, silly. How could I not? We’ve been through literal hell and back. Nothing could break the way I feel for you. Here – let me show you something.« I step away from him to a small vanity standing by the wall. It’s Lucio’s, but he offered me to store things in it if I needed space for my oddities and other stuff. I open one of the drawers and return to Lucio, a shimmering crystal in one, a leather-bound book in the other hand. I take a moment to flip through the pages until I find the one I was looking for. »This«, I explain, showing him the gemstone, »is a very special crystal. It reads and visualizes emotion from anyone who holds it by changing its glow. Where I come from, they’re usually given to little children or people who have trouble expressing their feelings because of brain conditions. Some use it as an important tool, some use it just for fun. This here« – I hand him the open book – »is what each glow symbolizes. Now… tell me a name. Any person we both know, and after you asked me about two or three, ask me about yourself.«

Lucio stares down at the color-chart on the paper. He looks up. »Asra.«

I close my eyes, picturing my old mentor. I think of him smirking, laughing, I think of him guiding me through difficult spells. I’m not even halfway through with the imagery, as I hear Lucio exclaim:   
»Oh – wow!!«

My eyes pop open; the crystal glows in an interchange of lilac and cyan. Lucio seems to be having trouble deciding what to look at – the gem or the book pages.

»Ah – dark blue is for admiration, and purple is for friendship. Okay… Noddy?«

I smile, and I picture the Countess on her horse, laughing at a witty joke, or with a stern, serious face as she listens to Heralds giving her the latest news from the different districts of Vesuvia. I imagine her petting Chandras gorgeous white feathers, and her wise, knowing smile.

»Hmm… the book says respect and also admiration. Oh, how about Jules next?«

My smile turns into a smirk as I think of the chaotic, melodramatic doctor, his overly enthusiastic theatrical performances, his love for the spotlight, his wit, and of course his absolutely terrible handwriting. I look at the crystal – it’s an intense shine of lilac once again, though ›Friendship‹ is a rather sloppy description. It actually stands for platonic love. I make a mental note to correct the book when I get the chance.

I observe Lucio’s face closely. His eyes jump from line to line in the chart – he smiles, but it fades soon after. He returns my gaze, not breaking it, as he quietly says: »Okay. Me.«

Not breaking eye contact either, my hand slides into his neck. I pull him closer, inch by inch, until our lips meet. Through my closed eyelids, I can still see how the crystal’s light pours from my palm and seems to flood the entire room. Lucio notices too – surprised, he breaks away, looks down.

»Whoa!«, is all I hear; I can’t help but smirk as he shields his eyes from the bright, soft pink shine.

I watch as he looks for the color in the chart. His face flushes as he finds it.

»It… It says love.«

»Yes.« I smile, take the book from him and put both crystal and notes back into the vanity’s drawer. After doing so, I step back to him, slide my hand into his and guide him to the bed. »Now, do you believe me?«, I ask, pulling him onto the mattress and into my arms.

With a deep, deep sigh, Lucio sinks his head on my chest. »Yeah«, he mumbles. »I just… I’m sorry. I’ve been… not sleeping so well recently.«

»I’ve noticed. Talk to me, darling. What do we say when we feel like the world is on our shoulders?«

»Nothing we can’t solve as long as we have each other.« Lucio props himself up on his elbows, looking into my eyes. »I know. But… I don’t know if you can help me with this.«

»Well, I could tell you, if you would finally spit it out.«

Lucio chuckles. It sounds a relieved, yet defeated. The smile that accompanied the sound drops a moment after. He raises from the mattress and sits on the edge of the bed. A few seconds of silence follow, until he finally breaks it: »I… I don’t think that… I don’t know if I want to be Count anymore.«

Now, that is a shocker.

Lucio? Not wanting to be Count? Who is that man, and what did he do to my husband?

»I-I know what you’re thinking«, he adds quickly, turning to me. »Probably something like, ›Who is that guy, and what did he do to Lucio?‹. I know. It sounds… ridiculous coming from me, considering the lengths that I- that _we_ went to get me back into this position, I know. But…« He breaks off. The misery returns to his facial expression. »I just… I just… don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I wasn’t a good Count back then, and I don’t think I will be a good Count now, no matter how much you help me with all of this governing-stuff.« He trails off, voice getting quieter and quieter as he speaks. »Everyone was just fine without me. Noddy does a good job at keeping Vesuvia afloat. I never liked the political stuff anyway – I liked the attention, I liked partying, but for some reason I just… can’t seem to enjoy it the way I used to. There is nothing that… holds me here, y’know? I’d much rather be somewhere else.« He takes a deep breath and sighs. »Where – I can’t believe I’m saying this – nobody knows me. Where the people don’t know me as Count Lucio, Successor of Count Stada, the Demon Slayer, the Tarot’s Fool- you get the idea. But where people just know me as… Montag. And maybe as the guy with the cutest significant other to ever enter their vicinity.«

I can’t hold back a laugh, and Lucio smirks. It’s relieving to see him do that.

»I see«, I chuckle after calming down. »Well… Then what do you say to us running away for a while?«

Lucio’s eyes grow big – his jaw drops. »Us? Running away? Like… two young lovers with disapproving parents?«

I smile at him and reach for his hand. »If that’s what you want to call it.«

For a moment, he stares at our intertwined fingers. »You would really do that for me? You would… abandon the palace life just to accompany me on a journey without a real destination?«

»Of course I would, my darling. I would follow you anywhere. And, you know, where I come from, we have a saying… ›The path is the destination‹.«

»›The path is the destination‹… ›The path is the-‹ I don’t get it.«

Laughing quietly, I raise his knuckles to my lips and kiss them. »Nevermind then, Moonshine. Come to bed. Let’s leave at dawn – I’ll write a note for Nadia and send Asra a dream before we head out. We can still get a few hours of sleep.«

Smiling faintly, yet with an indescribable amount of love in his eyes, Lucio crawls under the blanket, wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face on my throat. »Thank you«, he whispers, »for taking me the way I am. I love you. I love you so much.«

I smile as I kiss the top of his head. »I love you too, Montag.«

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... aaaand here we go! I hope you enjoyed this little drabble, hehe. I'd be thrilled to read y'all's opinions in form of comments. As always, I'll reply to as many as I can - and please don't forget that I'm always open for suggestions/requests. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day!!


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